


Steel-Toed Boots

by tresa_cho



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: AU, Angst, Cowboys, M/M, Multi, Other, h/c
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-02-23
Updated: 2011-02-22
Packaged: 2017-10-15 21:22:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/165063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tresa_cho/pseuds/tresa_cho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim Kirk crashed into McCoy's life. No, literally. He destroyed his pod in McCoy's land, and who's gonna clean that up? McCoy doesn't realise quite what it means to let Jim stay till the Enterprise is space-ready again, but he's about to find out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Crash Landing

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, this is shameless cowboy!Bones kink minus the actual... kinky part. Written originally for the st_xi_kinkmeme, but I'm de-anoning because I'm going to continue the storyline further. There is mention of past rape, but there is no non-con or dub-con in the story proper.

McCoy gazed out over the rolling fields, leaning against his fence. His legs crossed at the ankles and he folded his arms over his chest lightly. A small piece of grass hung from his lips as he stared out over the horizon. The setting sun cast a warm, orange glow over the shifting grass, melting the clouds in the sky into vibrant yellows, pinks, and reds. A gorgeous, hot summer evening.

A flash snapped overhead, catching his attention. He watched a streak of light blaze across the sky, and the boom that followed forced him to straighten. It was close. The light smashed into the ground over a ridge, shaking the earth lightly upon impact. McCoy held his hat in place as he hopped the fence and ran for his barn.

He grabbed Lady's reins from one of his stable hands, and swung himself easily into her saddle. "Hyah," he urged, digging his heels into her flank. She tore over the fields towards where the thing had landed.

Lighting over the last ridge, he saw the destruction of an escape pod crashed to earth. It left an impact crater that had torched the surrounding grass, and its nose was buried under gravel. McCoy hopped from Lady's back and soothed her as he moved closer to the vehicle. He pulled leather work gloves on when he got near enough, and grabbed the emergency hatch to pop the door. It sprung free with a hiss of pressurization, and McCoy heaved it back on its hinges.

The man inside the pod groaned as the last rays of the sun poured into the enclosed space.

"Hey," McCoy said, "Can you move?" The man rolled his eyes to look at McCoy, pain hazing over the most brilliant shade of blue McCoy had ever seen. For an instant he stopped breathing. Then he saw the trail of blood dripping from the man's forehead. He crouched, wiggling his way into the pod to unhook the man's safety harnesses. "Come on," he murmured. Slowly, he managed to get the man out of the pod and onto the ruined ground around it. McCoy grabbed a penlight from his saddle pack.

"Hey. Stay awake," McCoy urged, lightly slapping the man's cheek. The man grunted, trying to twist out of his grasp. "Stay awake, I think you have a concussion," McCoy said. McCoy peeled the man's-no, in the waning sun, he looked extremely young- kid's eyelids back and shined the light in his eyes, watching the pupils shrink reflexively. Good. He pocketed the light and ran his hands over the kid's body, checking for fractures, misplaced bones, a third hand... anything out of the ordinary. Nothin'. Kid was clean except a few bruises and a mild concussion.

McCoy scooped the kid into his arms, and the kid positively melted into the embrace, molding himself to McCoy's chest like a tipsy bride on her wedding night. McCoy rolled his eyes and hefted the kid onto Lady's back. He swung up after him and grasped the kid to him so he didn't slide off. He managed to get them both back to the ranch without toppling over.

"Leonard! Who's that?" Christine pushed open the porch door as McCoy gathered the kid in his arms again, carrying him up the stairs to the house proper.

"Crashed in the south fields," McCoy said as he pushed past her into the house. "The ship is a mess, but it's Federation. Just to be safe I want you to keep the house away from my rooms until I can figure out who he is. You got that?"

"Yessir," Christine said, closing the door behind him. She whirled into the kitchen, preparing tea and hot water for the kid's wounds.

  
McCoy nudged the door to his room open with a dusty boot, stepping into the bedroom washed in a deep orange glow. He let the kid down on his mattress, and pushed sweaty hair back from his forehead. McCoy sat on the side of the mattress and reached for his medical kit in the nightstand by the bed. He flicked it open and cleaned the kid's head wound gently. Christine entered the room with a bowl of hot water and set it down on the nightstand.

"I told you to stay away from the rooms, sweetheart," McCoy growled, sitting back with the bloodied gauze in his hands. Christine smiled at him cheekily.

"Who's going to bring you clean water and take away the grimy bedsheets?" she asked lightly. McCoy scowled. She opened her palm. He lifted an eyebrow, dropped the gauze into a plastic bag, and then handed it to her. She smiled, turned, and walked out of the room. "Call me if ya need me."

McCoy grumbled as he left the bed, stripping his dust-covered shirt off and dumping it in the hamper. He kicked his boots into a corner of the room and made his way to the sink in his bathroom. He ran the tap and soaked a washcloth, scrubbing his face and shoulders. He winced as cool water rubbed against skin. It felt like sunburn again. On his neck and shoulders. Argh. _Through_ his shirt. That just wasn't fair.

A soft exhalation of breath caught his attention, and he turned. The kid stood in the doorway, mouth slightly open as he took in McCoy's half-naked body. McCoy put the cloth down and rubbed the last of the water into his skin. "Take a holo, kid," McCoy growled.

"I don't think its the concussion talking when I say that you are the hottest thing I have ever seen," the kid breathed incredulously. "And I've had sex with Orions." McCoy couldn't help the flush rising to his cheeks.

"It is the concussion," he said firmly. "Now that you're awake, you can tell me how the hell you managed to crash your goddamn ship in my backyard." The kid blinked at him.

"The last thing I remember is trying to evacuate," the kid said with a slight frown. "And then landing, or crashing, rather. You were carrying me. That was you, right?" McCoy nodded in confirmation. The kid leaned against the door frame. "I can't remember anything else."

"That'll come back in time, kid. Go have a lay down, you're dead on your feet." McCoy grasped the kid's arm and led him back to the mattress. He fell onto it without resistance. "What's your designation, kid?"

"Kirk," he murmured, turning sleepy eyes on McCoy. "James Kirk. Cadet. USS Enterprise..." He was asleep before he could give his serial number. Didn't matter. McCoy could find the nearest space port and shove him off there. But who was gonna get that goddamn ship off his property?

He made his way out of his room, locking the door behind him, and trudged into the kitchen where something smelled amazing. "You cook?" he joked, grabbing a glass from the cabinet. Christine glared at him.

"Not for you," she said primly. "For that lovely boy you brought home." McCoy slid behind her and wrapped a hand around her waist, biting gently at her shoulder. She squeaked and slapped at his hands. "Off," she said, laughing. "You're going to make me ruin it." McCoy leaned back against the kitchen sink as she stirred a pot of something. "Before I forget," Christine said, "Mrs Mannya's boy is feverish. She was wondering if you could head over tomorrow and take a look at him."

"Depends on how our boy is doin'," McCoy said, taking a sip of whiskey. "I'm not gonna leave you all here alone with him."

"He's Federation," Christine pointed out. McCoy scowled.

"We don't know that for sure," McCoy said. "There's lotsa reasons to impersonate a cadet." Christine waved the spoon at him.

"Your grump is showing again, sir," she said. "Why don't you just go run his numbers? That would settle your questions right there." McCoy sighed heavily.

"You gonna call me when it's ready to eat?" McCoy asked as he left the kitchen in Christine's capable hands.

"Maybe!" Her voice echoed after him.

  
He picked a PADD off the coffee table and quickly searched James Kirk's name. Sure enough, the news was a jumble of articles about the attack on the Enterprise. Something about a conference. Peace talks... Shows just how peaceful talking could be. McCoy tossed the PADD back onto the table and sank onto the couch, kicking his feet up.

He woke to the sensation of Christine's fingers carding through his hair. He glanced up at her, stifling a yawn. "When's the last time you got a decent night sleep, Leonard?" she asked softly.

"When I was twelve," McCoy grumbled, pushing himself up off the couch. Christine frowned at him. She perched on the arm of the couch, hands in her lap.

"I know the practice is important to you, Leonard, but what are the patients going to do if you get sick?" she pointed out reasonably. "You're the only doctor for miles. You need to take care of yourself too."

"I am taking care of myself," McCoy said, rounding the couch to enter the kitchen. Christine's heavy sigh followed him. "Dinner ready yet?" The words froze in his throat when he saw Kirk sitting at the table, spoon poised halfway to his mouth.

"Yo," the kid said with a grin, recovering quickly.

"Who told you that you could leave the room?" McCoy asked sharply. Kirk looked startled.

"Your lovely nurse lady came and got me," he said hesitantly. He glanced behind McCoy, and McCoy turned to see Christine standing in the kitchen. She shrugged at him. "Uh, right." Kirk cleared his throat. "I can... go back to the room if you want."

"No, you're here now," McCoy sighed. He walked to the table and slammed his hands down on it, causing the dishes to rattle menacingly. Kirk jumped and locked eyes with him. "If you harm one hair on anyone in my household I will castrate you and sell your jewels on the black market. Got it?"

Kirk swallowed and nodded, his disturbingly clear blue eyes wide. "Ever thought about a career in politics?" he asked once he got his voice back. "I think you'd make a great ambassador to the Klingons."

"Bite me," McCoy snarled, turning to the range to grab himself something to eat.

"Is he always this pleasant?" Kirk asked Christine. McCoy missed her nonverbal answer. He sat down at the table across from Kirk and ate silently, well aware that Kirk was staring openly at him.

The door to the porch slammed open and Nyota breezed in. "Hola," she called to McCoy as she helped herself to Christine's dinner.

"Hola," he grumbled back. She started rambling off something in Spanish when she cut herself off, noticing Kirk sitting at the table. She frowned deeply.

"Who is that?" she asked, switching to Standard for the benefit of their guest.

"Federation castaway," McCoy said, leveling a glare at Kirk. The kid was flushed looking at Nyota. McCoy kicked him under the table. He yelped and stood.

"James Kirk," he said, offering his hand. Nyota stared at it with a raised eyebrow. Kirk grinned sheepishly and lowered his hand. "My escape pod apparently destroyed some of Doctor McCoy's land."

"Uhura," Nyota said coolly, moving to sit beside McCoy. "How long is he staying?"

"Till tomorrow when I can determine if he has any permanent damage," McCoy said. "As soon as I'm sure he's fine I'll drop him at the nearest port."

"I can have Spock come pick him up," Nyota offered. "The Enterprise is docked for repairs, the crew are on weekend leave."

"How do you know that?" Kirk cut in. Nyota scowled at him, irritated at the interruption. She ignored him with a flick of her dark hair.

"The horses are all set up for the night, the barn is locked down and armed," Nyota said, completely shifting the topic of conversation. "Mercy was limping a bit again. Do you want me to call the vet?"

"Yea, do it tomorrow," McCoy said with a slight sigh. Nyota watched him, concern bright in her eyes. He stood and brought his dishes to the sink. Nyota stepped behind him, nudging him aside gently.

"I got these. Get some rest, doctor," she said quietly.

"Kirk, come with me," McCoy ordered. Kirk jumped up from the table immediately, following McCoy out of the kitchen and back towards the bedroom.

"What exactly do you do here?" Kirk hazarded a conversation.

 

"Things," McCoy said shortly. "You can have the bed," McCoy went on, closing the door behind them.

"Where are you going to sleep?" Kirk asked, pausing just inside the room.

"Floor's fine. I've slept in worse places," McCoy said. Kirk stared at him.

"You're kidding, right? I know I'm like, a guest or something, but the bed's more than big enough for two. We're both adults here. I promise I don't snore," Kirk said lightly. "Or at least let me sleep on the floor. I don't want to put you out after everything you've done. Really."

"Fine," McCoy said, too weary to argue anymore. "Stay on your side of the bed. I've been known to kick." Kirk grinned.

"Do you mind if I catch up on the news before I go to sleep? I lost my comm during the attack," Kirk said.

"I don't care," McCoy said, shucking his torn jeans and climbing into flannel pyjama bottoms. He fell onto the bed and was asleep almost instantly.

His dreams were full of screaming and blood, and he was dragged from them violently by someone yelling in his ear. A hand grasped his arm fiercely, shaking him.

"McCoy! Wake up!"

He opened his eyes with a sharp gasp, his entire body locking up at the sudden shift from dream to reality. He glanced around wildly, taking in his own room, now dark with night. Incredible warmth stretched around him, and he shifted, recognising he was pressed against someone.

"What...?" he managed roughly, voice hoarse. The hand on his arm gripped just slightly tighter.

"That... was a ridiculous nightmare. You were flailing, screaming, the whole works. It's a miracle the whole house didn't come running." James Kirk leaned over him, his face growing clearer as McCoy's eyes adjusted to the dim light of the moon sifting through the window shades. McCoy frowned, reaching up to touch Kirk's chin, where a dark smudge resided. Kirk turned away, licking his lip. "Ow," he said finally.

"Did I do that?" McCoy asked incredulously.

"Yea, man. You have a mean left hook," Kirk said, wincing. McCoy was well aware of Kirk's hand still resting on his arm. "You all right?"

"Yea, 'm fine," McCoy said. He pulled his arm from Kirk's grip and rolled over.

"Shouldn't we tell everyone else that you're not dying slowly and painfully?" Kirk asked over his shoulder. "I'm pretty sure they heard you shouting all the way to Atlanta."

"The room is soundproofed," McCoy admitted with a sigh. Kirk fell quiet over him.

"These nightmares happen often?" Kirk asked softly. McCoy grunted. He heard Kirk shift down in the bed. An instant later his arm snaked around McCoy's chest. "Come'ere," Kirk muttered. McCoy stiffened as Kirk pulled him close. "Relax. Sometimes it helps to have someone close. Well, it's always helped me anyways. I'll wake you if you have another, before it gets too bad. All right?"

"Whatever, kid," McCoy muttered. It had been a while since he had shared a bed with someone, much less fallen asleep in someone's arms. He let the warmth of Kirk's body sink into his bones, chasing the chill of the nightmare back. It wasn't long before he fell asleep once more, lulled by the constant rhythm of Kirk's heart against his skin.

  
When the sun poured through the windows the next morning, striking McCoy's eyes, he woke. He felt so rested and warm that it startled him, forcing him up onto his elbows to glance around the room. Kirk lay in the bed beside him, one hand curled lightly along his abdomen. The kid was flat on his stomach, still dead to the world. McCoy couldn't believe it. After the kid woke him that one time, he had managed to sleep through the night. He hadn't done that in weeks.

McCoy gently disentangled himself from Kirk's limbs and slipped from the bed. He padded lightly to the shower, stepping in to account for the the one he hadn't gotten the night before. His skin felt like it was caked in dust, and the grimy water that flowed down the drain confirmed the sensation.

He wrapped himself in a towel when he was finished, and was rummaging through his drawers for something comfortable to wear when he heard Kirk wake.

"You do this every day?" the kid breathed. "I could get used to this." McCoy turned to see him stretching luxuriously, like a cat, sprawling over the massive bed. "Oh man. I haven't slept that good in forever."

"You and me both," McCoy said, tugging a pair of jeans on. He tossed the towel onto his bed. Kirk grinned at him, the smile threatening to outshine the sun.

"Told you," he said. McCoy scowled and sat on the bed beside Kirk's head. He grabbed the kid's jaw and turned his face towards the light. The split lip McCoy had dealt was already sealing shut, it didn't need further treatment. "How's it look, doc?"

"Looks like some mean mother punched you," McCoy growled, releasing the kid. Kirk leered at him, rolling over onto his stomach to prop himself up on his elbows.

"So I was thinking--" Kirk started.

"Did you hurt yourself?" McCoy jibed back. Kirk's smile didn't waver.

"Har har," he said. "I was thinking I could stay with you for a few days. Enterprise is on leave while she gets fixed up, and nobody would miss me too bad. I'll pull my weight, help you with the cleaning or whatever. Can I?"

McCoy stomped down on the chill creeping along his spine. Every instinct in him screamed at him to say no. "I'll have to run it by the ladies," he said. "They have the final say in anything around here."

"I know how that is," Kirk said, pulling his legs under him as he sat up.

"Married?"

"Not even close," Kirk said proudly. "Women have a way of getting what they want no matter the situation." McCoy rolled his eyes. Kirk stood from the bed. "I know! I'll make some breakfast. Once you've tasted my omelet you'll be begging me to stay." He darted from the room before McCoy could stop him. Oh boy.

He met Nyota and Christine in the hall as he stepped from his room. They both paused at the sight of his face.

"What is it, Leonard?" Christine asked.

"The Federation brat wants to stay on a few days, to see what we do here," McCoy said. "I told him it was up to you two."

"Ooh, I like him," Christine said happily. "I don't mind. Nyota?"

Nyota scowled, but shrugged. "I don't have anything against him. He rubs me the wrong way, but he seems like a nice guy." She jabbed a finger at McCoy. "I'm not giving him the tour." McCoy smiled. Nyota shrugged and pushed past him down the hall. "I'll go let the horses out. Be back in a minute!"

"Are you sure, Christine?" McCoy asked quietly. Christine nodded firmly.

"I think we need someone like him here for a bit," she said.

"You know where my stash is, right?" McCoy said in a low voice. Christine sighed, nodding. She touched his arm gently, patting it once before moving towards the kitchen.

Kirk's breakfast was indeed spectacular. McCoy hated to admit it, but it may have even been better than Nyota's. Nyota seemed to think so, anyway. After breakfast he saddled up and rode out to the Mannya's place to take a look at their kid. He was only suffering a mild infection. McCoy gave the parents a treatment of antibiotics to kill the bacteria and headed back to his place.


	2. CH. 2

Nyota was leaning against the pasture fence, watching the horses run. McCoy handed his horse off to one of the stable hands and made his way back to the house proper. Silence greeted him when he opened the front door. Puzzled, he glanced through the main rooms. Nobody seemed to be home. Odd. Christine was usually working on paperwork somewhere in the main house on the weekends.

McCoy heard rustling as he moved towards the sleeping area. He paused in the hall. It was coming from Christine's room. Frowning, he took a few silent steps towards the door, which was closed and locked. He could hear Kirk's low, breathy moans and the slapping of flesh.

Rage and frigid fear warred for dominance as he swiftly ran to his office. He grabbed his pump-action from under the desk and hefted it to his shoulder, returning to Christine's door. He leaned back and kicked the door in. The lock exploded off the frame with a bang. Christine's shriek mixed with Kirk's explosive shout of surprise.

"Get back," McCoy snarled, leveling the sights on one James Kirk, naked underneath Christine on her bed. Christine grabbed her blouse around her and scrambled from the bed.

"No, no, Leonard, it's not what you think," she panted, stepping right in front of the barrel. McCoy lowered the sights as he reached out to grab his nurse's hand and tug her behind him. Kirk kept his hands in the air as he stood from the bed. "Leonard, for god's sake, listen to me."

"It's all right, Christine, he's _leaving_ ," McCoy growled. Christine gripped his arm fiercely.

"Leonard, he _knows_ ," Christine said with a slight gasp. "He knows, okay, and he was being so gentle with me. You wouldn't believe it. Will you put that damn gun away?" McCoy met her eyes, disbelieving. "Put it away. We'll go talk in the kitchen."

McCoy lowered the shotgun, and both Christine and Kirk sighed in relief. "What the Sam hell is going on here?" McCoy hissed.

"Come into the kitchen, Leonard. Just, come on," Christine said shakily. "Jim, get dressed and meet us out there, okay?" Kirk nodded, his face pale. Christine tugged McCoy into the hall and forced him to put his weapon away before dragging him into the kitchen. Her hands were shaking as she poured them both a shot.

"Can I come in?" Kirk's voice issued from the doorway. Christine nodded, and Kirk joined them at the table under McCoy's violent glare.

"Leonard," Christine admonished. McCoy scowled and tipped his shot back without a word. "I'm sorry about what happened, Jim. Leonard is... he's very good to us."

"I'm not sorry," McCoy said sharply. "What was going on, exactly?" Kirk opened his mouth but Christine stepped over him quickly.

"I was telling him what you do here, what we do, and the conversation turned to what brought us all here. I-I told him about being raped, and he said 'Ms Chapel, I find you exceedingly pleasing to look at, but if you do not want to play then you don't have to'. It was completely my choice, and Jim even offered to lay on his back for me. He made me completely comfortable with him. I was having fun, Leonard," Christine said earnestly. "Just like when you and I have our romps. At no point did I feel threatened. We even had a safe word. It was totally consensual. I'd appreciate if you didn't shoot my playdate. And before you ask, I didn't tell him about you or Uhura. That's obviously something that has to be told from the source."

McCoy felt uncomfortable heat flush through him when he realised Kirk was staring at him intensely.

"I'm not going to hurt any of you," Kirk said quietly. "I'd kill myself first." McCoy almost believed him. He wasn't sure if those blue eyes could lie. "It's amazing what you've been doing here. I didn't know Starfleet was in such close contact with places like this."

"There are hundreds of us all around the world," McCoy said. "Shadow's Edge is just one of many ranches set up for trauma victims."

"So how did you come here?" Kirk asked, his eyes sharp on McCoy's face.

  
McCoy cast a glance at Christine, still clothed only in a sheer white blouse. "Walk with me," he suggested to Kirk. The kid nodded and stood. Christine watched them leave quietly, her hands wrapped around the shot glass.

McCoy led them to the barn. He always found it easier to talk when his hands were moving. He drew Lady from her stable and grabbed the brush, tossing one to Kirk. The kid knew instinctively what to do, standing on the other side of the beast as McCoy sighed.

"I was a Fleet doctor," McCoy finally started. "On a pretty routine mission out to bumblefuck. We didn't know there was a group of  
Glachnai insurgents hiding out on the planet. They captured us, tortured us for information. They told my CO they would let all but one of us go." Jim narrowed his eyes. "I'd never gotten along with him. He told them they could keep me. Figured because I was a doctor I would survive long enough to wait for back-up."

Kirk's hands stilled on Lady's hide. "That's disgusting," he breathed. "No commanding officer would do-"

"Well one _did_ ," McCoy snapped. "I was rescued about a week later, after I had patched up everything they were doing to me. Have you ever had to suture your own wounds? It's not pretty." McCoy took a deep, steadying breath. "I wasn't conscious, so they took away all the scars, all the evidence. Nobody would listen to me. My CO cited some regulation that absolved him of any responsibility. So I quit, and they 'strongly recommended' that I come down here. I didn't have anything else, so I came. When the old owner got pulled to start up another ranch, I took over. Been here ever since."

"You still have nightmares," Kirk whispered. McCoy glared at him.

"Of course I have nightmares. We all do. Just because the body mends doesn't mean the brain forgets." McCoy ran his hands through Lady's mane. "I turned our ranch into a sort of family practice for the people in the area. Christine has told me she wouldn't have gone anywhere if she couldn't practice. Now she won't leave."

"Why did you soundproof your room?" Jim asked hoarsely. "None of the others are soundproofed."

McCoy glared at him balefully. "I'm the head of the ranch, kid. If I'm a nervous wreck do you think new patients are going to feel confident?" Jim was silent, staring at him. McCoy scowled and continued to run the brush over Lady's hide. They finished grooming her in silence.

  
McCoy was wary to send Kirk out to meet the others on the ranch, but Christine's Evil Glare was enough to make him shrink from locking Kirk in his room. McCoy did was he did every Saturday, sat in his office and tried to sift through the massive amounts of paperwork that had piled up over the course of the week. Out the window he saw Kirk sitting on the fence with Nyota, just talking. Kirk appeared to be attempting to flirt with her, and Nyota was routinely shutting him down at every turn. She seemed to be enjoying it, though.

"So nobody knows what happened to Uhura?" Kirk asked that night as they prepared for bed.

"No. They found her in the simulation room, unconscious. When she woke, she seemed all right, but every now and again she was triggered. We haven't been able to figure out exactly what does it. It seems to change every time. Her boyfriend's a Vulcan, and even he can't figure it out. He's a damn empath."

"Telepath," Kirk corrected absently.

"Whatever," McCoy said. "The point is, I can't tell if we're making progress with her. Luckily, there are enough translating jobs to keep her sitting still. Thank god for social networking." Jim sat on the bed, watching him move around the room performing his nightly routines. McCoy felt he should be uneasy with how Kirk had slipped into his daily life as if he belonged there. Sprawled comfortably on the bed as if waiting patiently for a spouse...

"So after you work your magic, do they reenlist?" Kirk asked.

"Some do, some don't. It depends. Uhura will most likely reenlist. There's no way anything other than Starfleet will keep her occupied. She's too bright," McCoy said, finally sliding into bed. He flicked the light off and shuffled down under the covers. Beside him, Kirk fetched up against him, curving his body against McCoy's. McCoy couldn't bring himself to be irritated with the kid. He found himself being soothed to sleep to the sensations of Kirk pressed against him.

Just as gently as he fell asleep, he was pulled out of a darkening dream by the sound of Kirk's voice. "Hey, hey. It's all right. Shh, come on," Kirk whispered, breath ghosting over McCoy's ear. McCoy moaned, remaining limp as Kirk forced him to roll over. Kirk's hand carded through his hair, and McCoy couldn't stop himself from grabbing Kirk's arm. He felt Kirk's lips on his hair, murmuring soothing words as his other hand roamed McCoy's back and arms. McCoy let himself slump against Kirk, his full weight resting on the smaller man. Kirk's fingers on his skin let him sink back to sleep peacefully.

"Oh goodness, you two are so adorable."

Christine's voice woke him next, and he jerked, realising the sun was almost high. "Shit," he swore, pushing himself out of Kirk's hold.

"Relax, Leonard. The ranch didn't burn down while you had a little nap," Christine said. "Nyota and I made you two breakfast, if you can be bothered to get up before thirteen o'clock. Starfleet sent us a message, we're getting someone new."

McCoy swore again, staggering from the bed to grab something halfway decent to wear. Christine followed him with her eyes, appreciation blatant in her gaze. "Christine!" McCoy barked. She smiled innocently at him. "Do you mind?"

"Not at all, sir," she laughed, leaning against the door. Behind her, Nyota popped her head in.

"Ooh. Helloooo doctor," she oozed. McCoy growled, striding to the door. He pulled it from Christine's grasp and shut it to the sounds of the girls laughing.

"Bones, I want to stay here."

Kirk's statement made him freeze, one leg in a pair of trousers. He stared at the kid on the bed, hair sleep-tousled and cheeks flushed. "Come again?" he asked.

"I want to stay here," Kirk repeated.

  
"This isn't a resort, kid," McCoy hissed, tugging his pants on.

"I know," Kirk said earnestly. "I want to help you."

McCoy fought back the slithering feeling creeping along his spine. "It isn't always this happy and care-free. I clean up the mess that Starfleet makes, and it's never pretty. What you're seeing here is a result of years of painful, agonising work."

"I know," Kirk said again. McCoy stared at him.

"No," he said definitively. "Absolutely not. You go back to your ship, Mr Golden Boy. Don't think I haven't read about your exploits. I'm not going to be one of your charity cases."

Kirk gasped as if punched, face pale. "That is completely unfair. Is that what you think this is? Sympathy?" he yelled, finding his voice with some difficulty. "Just give me a chance. I've seen the work you do here. I want to be part of it."

"No," McCoy maintained. "You have no idea what goes on here. You'd suffocate here. We don't deal with aliens or giant space battles. You'd die of boredom."

"I wouldn't," Kirk protested. "Let me help. Please!"

"Why are you so determined?" McCoy snapped. "Your little Federation needs you to captain a ship in the future. You're willing to give that up to shovel horse shit on a daily basis? You're out of your mind!"

"Because I love you, you stupid bastard!" Kirk burst out. A second later he clamped his jaw shut, realising what he had said. His eyes went wide, as if startled with himself. He turned a hesitant gaze towards McCoy.

"Get out," McCoy said, clenching his fists. A fine tremble shook his body. Kirk didn't move. " _Get out_!" McCoy roared. Kirk leapt from the bed, walking quickly to the door. It opened and closed with a bang, and McCoy was left alone, shaking. He made his way unsteadily to his bed and slumped down on it, pressing his hands to his face. " _Fuck_ ," he moaned brokenly.

  
When McCoy finally gathered himself enough to leave his room, he found the house quiet. Christine was the only one in the kitchen, keeping breakfast warm. She silently handed him a plate, which he accepted just as wordlessly. He sank into a chair and pushed the scrambled eggs around his plate. He didn't look up as Christine pulled the chair out across from him and sat down.

"Leonard," she said softly. He glanced up. "Talk to me. Kirk came tearing through here. Didn't stop to talk to anyone. What's going on?"

"Nothin'," McCoy grumbled. Christine frowned at him. McCoy let out a discontented grunt. "Kid thinks he's _in love_ with me," he finally said dryly.

"Is that so shocking?" Christine asked gently. "You say it like he's crazy." McCoy stared at her.

"He _is_ crazy!" he burst. "He's known me all of two days. He was mildly concussed for one of them! There's no way he could even like me, much less love me."

"Why not?" Christine asked. McCoy glanced at her in surprise. Christine was a reasonable girl, this was not like her. "Why not, Leonard?" she persisted earnestly. "You are... an _amazing_ man. You run this ranch. You're an award-winning doctor. You're so brave and strong even though you're hurting. Yes, we know about the nightmares, Leonard. And Nyota and I hate that you lock your door at night." Christine blinked back tears. She wiped her eyes with a sharp motion. "You have to let someone in," she said finally. "And Jim... There's something about him. He could be just what we need here. He could be just what you need."

"You don't know what I need," McCoy snapped instinctively. Christine glared at him through bright eyes. McCoy took a breath. "Sorry. Reflex."

"I know. I'm not angry," she said. She reached across the table and grasped his hands. "He's a good kid, Leonard. His heart's in the right place. I think he'd do well here." She gave his hand a quick pat before standing, moving to begin cleaning up the brunch dishes.

"Leonard!" Nyota slammed open the kitchen door with a yell. McCoy leapt from his chair. "Come quick, Kirk's lost it!"

Without a second thought, he ran after Nyota. Christine followed. Nyota tore through the ranch, out to the fields where they kept the stronger horses, the ones that required a firmer hand. Nyota slid to a halt at the fence, Mccoy beside her.

"I told him about Dark Star, and how nobody was able to ride him. The stupid idiot took it as a challenge," she hissed. She swore under her breath in Klingon as McCoy jumped the fence. "What are you doing!?"

"Going to get the stupid idiot," he growled.

"Who's going to heal you up when Dark Star breaks your leg!?" Nyota called after him. He ignored her and stalked into the field. McCoy caught sight of Crush, one of the mustangs he had personally broken. He trotted over to him and let the beast re-familiarize with him before pulling himself up onto his back.

This high off the ground, he could see a dark streak running across the field down near the western pastures. McCoy urged Crush towards the two trouble-makers.

  
He lined Crush up behind Dark Star. The horse was way too fast for him to catch bareback. He'd have to wait till Kirk was thrown before doing anything. He didn't have to wait long. Dark Star made a vicious turn and Kirk slid from his back, rolling on the ground before sliding to a halt. A cloud of dust drifted around his body as Dark Star whirled to extract his revenge.

McCoy cut the horse off, jerking Crush between Dark Star and the fallen cadet. Dark Star veered, and decided to run off his anger in another part of the pasture. McCoy scowled as he dismounted, shaking. He did not like going up against such a large beast without anything in hand.

He dropped to his knees beside Kirk, rolling him over. He wiped dust from the kid's face. Kirk blinked his eyes open and they were unfocused once again. "Dammit, Jim," McCoy hissed between his teeth. "You tryin' to get yourself killed?"

Kirk smiled loopily. "You called me Jim," he slurred.

"Got a few more words to call ya too, when you're stable enough to remember'em," McCoy growled. He tugged Jim's arm, hauling the kid reluctantly into a sitting position. "Up. Come on. I'm not carryin' your ass all the way back to the ranch."

Jim managed to get his legs under him, and they staggered unsteadily back to the fence where Nyota and Christine waited. Christine hooked Jim's other arm over her shoulder and Nyota made sure their path was clear as they made their way back to the house proper. They made it to the couch before dropping Jim onto it with a great sigh of relief.

"Keep him awake," McCoy ordered as he went to grab his kit. Christine crouched beside Jim's head. McCoy stormed back into the room, taking Christine's place as she quickly moved aside. "Another concussion," McCoy diagnosed after a few routine tests. "Which is good, because otherwise he may have felt his broken wrist more."

"I kept pressure off it while we walked," Christine said. "It felt like it was starting to swell a bit." McCoy nodded.

"Nyota, go get some ice. We'll start a regenerator in a bit, when he's more aware of what's going on. For now, stop the swelling and keep him comfortable." McCoy closed his kit. "Idiot." Christine gave him a Look. He rolled his eyes in response.

Nyota brought the ice in and sat on the floor beside McCoy. They turned the holo on to wait. A few hours later, the tricorder reported no changes in swelling in the brain. McCoy promptly put Jim to sleep and then hooked up the machine to set his wrist. As it hummed, he watched some ancient movie, both girls beside him, one on each arm as they waited.

The next thing he knew, fingers were carding through his hair. He jerked slightly, and realised he had somehow fallen asleep. He groaned. His neck was bent at a seriously awkward angle. He rolled his head to straighten up. Christine and Nyota had fallen asleep in his lap. He twisted. Jim smiled at him lazily. The regenerator had been disconnected and was laying on the floor, tucked behind Nyota. Jim wiggled his fingers. "Fixed," he said quietly.

"What the hell were you thinking?" McCoy hissed, trying not to wake the girls. "Getting on a horse like that without any protection or telling anyone where you went? Do you have a death wish!?"

Jim looked sufficiently sheepish. "I wasn't thinking," he murmured. "I... I had to do something. I barely even remember going out there. Just you yelling at me and then I saw the horse..."

McCoy saw red. "Do you know _anything_ about horses!?"

"I know which end to sit on," Jim said. McCoy wasn't sure his face could twist any further in displeasure. Jim actually seemed cowed by his barely restrained explosion. "I'm sorry."

"He could have snapped your stupid neck," McCoy ground out fiercely. "Don't you ever, _ever_ do something stupid like that again, you hear me?"

  
"I'm sorry," Jim said again. McCoy did not miss that it was not a promise. "I do stupid things all the time. Unfortunately, I can't promise that." McCoy scowled. Nyota stirred and woke, followed shortly by Christine. They both sat up and stretched. Nyota saw Jim was awake, and slapped him across the cheek without preamble. He blinked, working his jaw to lessen the sting.

"Idiot!" Nyota snapped, getting to her feet. She stormed from the room, slamming doors as she went outside. McCoy had never been prouder of that woman. Christine pushed herself to her feet as well.

"I'll let you two scream it out," she said lightly, pushing her hair back from her face. "Don't kill each other." And then she was gone too. McCoy was alone with the suicidal cadet.

"You surprised me," McCoy finally said gruffly. Jim stared at him. McCoy scowled at him. "What was I supposed to do? You've known me for two days."

"I surprised myself," Jim admitted, pushing himself up on the couch. He swung his legs around and leaned on his knees. He groaned, hiding his face in his hands. "You took me off-guard. I wasn't expecting your history, or the amazing people you've helped, or how incredibly _hot_ you look on a horse..." He sighed. McCoy couldn't help himself. He reached over and clamped his hand down over Jim's knee and gave a reassuring squeeze.

" 'm glad you're not dead," he said roughly. Jim chuckled.

"I'm glad I'm not dead either," he concurred. He watched McCoy stand and stretch painfully. "You all right?"

"I rode bareback across half my pasture to save your scrawny ass and then slept all crimped up on the floor. No, I'm definitely not all right," McCoy complained. "Everything hurts." Jim stood with a slight pout hanging from his lips.

"I'm sorry," he said again. McCoy shoved him slightly.

"Go draw me a hot bath if you're really sorry," he said. Jim's eyes widened slightly. He stood there. McCoy stared right back at him. Then, realising he was serious, turned quickly and almost ran for the living quarters. McCoy followed at a much slower pace. He heard the water running as he entered his room and closed the door behind him. He stripped down to his trousers as he made his way to the master bath where Jim was watching the tub fill. Jim stood, grinned at him, and left. McCoy got naked and slipped into the water, which was at a perfect temperature. Nice.

  
He lay back in the tub and closed his eyes, letting the heat sink into his muscles. He felt himself drifting off again when a shadow fell over him. He opened one eye lazily. Jim stood over him. Without a word, the cadet kicked his shoes and socks off. He stepped into the tub, one leg at a time. McCoy watched, too comfortable to be concerned. Jim straddled his legs, leaning over him.

"What are you doing?" McCoy asked in a low voice.

"I don't know," Jim answered. His weight was warm and heavy against McCoy's legs. And then his lips were on McCoy's. McCoy exhaled his surprise, bringing his hands up to grip Jim's arms. Jim shifted, pressing McCoy against the back of the tub, tipping his head back. Jim held him down, pinned him to the bottom of the tub as he nipped and sucked desperately at McCoy's lips.

"Are you wearing my dress shirt?" McCoy growled against his mouth. "And my pressed trousers?"

"It's the only thing you own that isn't plaid or jean," Jim breathed back. "I look horrible in plaid. Trust me." Jim mouthed a series of wet kisses along McCoy's jaw. McCoy leaned into the touch, one hand trailing up Jim's arm to tangle in his hair, holding him close.

"You owe me a new set of dress clothes," McCoy murmured. Jim ran his hand down McCoy's stomach, pressing firmly into his hips.

"Is this all right?" Jim asked softly, pausing. His lips barely brushed McCoy's throat. McCoy rubbed his fingers through Jim's hair.

"Yea, it's all right," he whispered, breathing deeply to still the nervousness creeping into his stomach. Jim leaned back, and through the clear water filling the tub McCoy could see everything he did. Jim ran his hands up and down McCoy's chest, rubbing skin firmly, massaging and pressing heat into every muscle as he worked his way down towards McCoy's hips. McCoy leaned back as well, letting himself hang loosely in the water as Jim's fingers did amazing things to his body.

When Jim's hand closed around his prick, he was already half-hard. He lifted his hips slightly into the touch, and Jim stroked him firmly with one hand. The other hand never stilled, constantly working around McCoy's chest and abs. The hot water and the hot press of skin on skin seemed to set the air around him on fire. Every touch sent bolts of heat through his body. He actually moaned when Jim took his hand away.

Jim chuckled, and the next thing McCoy knew Jim had enclosed both his and McCoy's pricks in the warm circle of his fingers. Jim leaned close, touching his forehead to McCoy's as he pumped them both. The water splashed between them, hiding the sounds of Jim's fist around their cocks. Jim's pants rubbed McCoy's skin. McCoy grit his teeth against his release, knocking his head with Jim's lightly as he came. Jim gasped through his orgasm, gripping the edge of the master bath with a shaking arm.

He let his hand fall away, and lifted his eyes to meet McCoy's gaze, panting. McCoy couldn't stop himself from lifting his hands, dripping, to grip Jim's face and pull him in for a searing kiss.

"Thank you," Jim breathed harshly into his mouth. McCoy's heart twisted painfully. Jim started to pull away, to climb out of the tub, but McCoy held him in place with a fierce grip.

"Jim," he said hoarsely. Jim cast a worried glance at him before sinking back into the tub atop McCoy. His clothed body stretched over McCoy's skin, a comforting, solid warmth. McCoy wrapped his arms around the kid's shoulders loosely.

"You okay?" Jim's voice rumbled through both their ribcages.

"Yea, just... stay with me for a bit..."

"I'm not going anywhere," Jim murmured, touching his lips to McCoy's collarbone.


End file.
